The Real World
by allthingsdecent
Summary: By request: What if House and Cuddy had been locked together in Lockdown?


**I wrote this story based on a prompt from freesabird14: What if House and Cuddy were locked together in Lockdown? (This prompt was also the winner of this week's official: "Which prompt should ATD write?" Twitter poll!)**

**Obviously, you have to mess with canon a bit here. Cuddy wasn't the one to order the lockdown because she was otherwise occupied. (Heh. Can you guess with whom?)**

**I like the open-ended way it ends myself. But if you all hate the ending to pieces, I might consider a second chapter. . . (Also, if you wish Cuddy had mentioned the skank from Let Them Eat Cake, please read my fic From Afar, which addresses that.) - atd**

_Disclaimer: If I worked for House, I would've kept the whole staff on lockdown until they changed the script and had House talking to the POTW about Cuddy, not Lydia._

Cuddy was taking a stroll through the clinic when she saw a Hobbit-like figure in a lab coat scurry past her toward an exam room.

"Taub!" she said sharply.

Taub stopped, looked up guiltily.

"Yes, Dr. Cuddy," he said, meekly.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm a doctor. This is a clinic. It's sort of my natural habitat." He gave a nervous titter.

"But it's not your scheduled time for clinic duty, now is it?"

"Technically no. . ."

"It's House's."

"Technically, yes . . ."

"Is he working on anything important?"

Taub shuffled his feet.

"Technically. . ." he said.

"Stop with the technicalities and tell me where he is!"

"Umm. . ."

"Does he have a case?"

"No."

"Is he doing anything _at this exact moment_ that is helping to save anyone's life?"

"I wouldn't necessarily say that," Taub said.

"Is he hiding from me on the roof?"

"Technically . . ."

"Get back to the exam room, Taub," Cuddy said, cutting him off. "But don't get too comfortable."

She took the elevator to the top floor, then the stairs to the roof.

The wind made the door even heavier than normal. It closed loudly behind her but House didn't hear because he was staring into the horizon with his back to her, wearing headphones.

She walked up to him, lifted one of the headphones off his ear and shouted at him, "Enjoying the view?"

He jumped about two feet in the air, knocking his cane over.

"Jesus woman. You don't sneak up on someone who's _standing on a roof_!" he said, taking off the headphones and looping them around his neck.

"Maybe that'll teach you not to be on a roof when you're supposed to doing clinic duty," she said, reaching down and handing him his cane.

"Yes, tumbling to my death certainly would've taught me a lesson."

"Well, now that I have your attention, both the rooftop and the"—she pulled one of the ear buds towards her own ear—"The Who are going to have to wait."

"It's Led Zeppelin," he said, scowling a bit, turning off his iPod. "You really don't know the difference between The Who and Led Zeppelin?"

"I must've missed that day in medical school," she said.

He raised his eyebrows.

"It's _Zeppelin IV_, by the way," he said. "I've closed many a deal to a this album. And by closed many a deal, I mean. . ."

"I know what you mean," she said. "Get off the roof and get down into the clinic."

"But whyyyy?" he whined. "Let me explain to you how hierarchy works. First, you delegate assignments to your underlings. Then I delegate them to _my_ underlings. Sadly, for Taub, he's so short, he has no underlings. . ."

"You got extra clinic duty because you went behind my back on that spinal procedure. And your solution to that problem is to. . . go behind my back again?"

"If at first you don't succeed. . ."

"You just earned yourself two more hours."

He rolled his eyes.

"That's like making Da Vinci do Paint By Numbers. Making Mozart write a jingle."

"You didn't just compare yourself to Da Vinci and Mozart in one sentence, did you?"

He gave a sly grin.

"Look Cuddy, if you're dying to see me in a lab coat, we can arrange a private view—"

"ATTENTION!"

It was a booming voice coming from the hospital PA system.

"PRINCETON PLAINSBORO IS CURRENTLY IN LOCKDOWN. I REPEAT. WE ARE IN LOCKDOWN. YOU ARE NOT IN DANGER. PLEASE REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE."

Cuddy and House exchanged a look.

"What the hell?" Cuddy said. She went to the roof door, but it was locked shut.

"House, help me with this," she said. He shrugged, limped over to the door, pulled.

"It would appear to be locked," he said dryly.

"It can't be locked!" she said, getting a bit frantic. She pulled again.

"It would definitely appear to be locked," House said.

"Shit," Cuddy said. She pulled out her phone, called Gary, the head of security.

"What the hell's going on, Gary?" she said.

"Infant went missing. I couldn't find you, so I followed hospital protocol," Gary said.

Cuddy nodded.

"You did good," she said. "I need your boys to comb every inch of the hospital. Meanwhile, I'm up here on the roof with Dr. House—don't ask. Can you send someone to come get us?"

"No can do," Gary said.

"_No can do_?"

"If I open the roof door, I'd need to reboot the whole system, which would take half an hour, which would defeat the purpose of having the lockdown to begin with."

Cuddy sighed, exasperated.

"How long do you think this lockdown will take?"

"Could take anywhere from 5 minutes to. . . five hours."

"Great," Cuddy said. Her shoulders slumped a bit. "Okay, thanks."

House was looking at her, a tiny smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Bad news?" he said mirthfully.

"A baby went missing. The hospital is following the protocol that I—moronically, in retrospect—set up. We're in lockdown mode."

"What does that mean?"

"That means we're stuck up here until further notice."

"I had a dream like this once," House said, looking her up and down. "Except it was an elevator and neither of us were wearing pants. I'm sure you've had similar dreams with me wearing nothing but a lab coat."

"Very funny, House," she said.

She suddenly realized how cold it was. She was wearing a silk blouse and skirt. She hugged herself a bit.

"Too bad you're not wearing a coat," House said. "I'm warm and toasty." He was wearing his leather jacket.

"And they say chivalry is dead," she snorted.

"I'm just kidding," he said, taking off his jacket. He was wearing a royal blue tee-shirt underneath. "Here." He handed her the coat.

"I can't," she said. "You'll be colder than I am."

"Macho types like me are impervious to the cold, little lady," he said, in a John Wayne style voice.

"Yeah, sure," she chuckled. But she took the jacket, put it on. It was swimming on her. It was warm and heavy and smelled good, like House.

He smiled, almost involuntarily, at her cuteness in the oversized jacket.

Then he sat down, with his back against the landing. He patted the dusty floor next to him.

"Since we're going to be here for a while. . ." he said.

She looked at him for a few seconds. Then shrugged and sat next to him. She sat close, feeling guilty about the coat, hoping that some of her body heat would keep him warm.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that you arranged this whole thing to get me alone," she said.

"Yes, I do all my best baby abductions from the roof," he said.

"I said, _if_ I didn't know better."

"Because we both know my days of scheming to get alone with you are long behind me."

She looked at him, a bit surprised.

"We both know that?" she said.

"I accept the fact that you and Lucas are _in love,_" he said. Then he swallowed loudly. "Excuse me, I just threw up a little bit in my mouth."

She pursed her lips.

"Well, thank you," she said.

"And I have kept my distance ever since you sent me on that wild _turkey_ chase," he continued.

"I should probably apologize for that," she conceded.

"Ya _think_?"

"You bring out the worst in me," she said. Then she gave a slight smile: "And the best."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

They were both quiet for a second.

"House?" she said.

"Present," he said.

"I guess I'm glad we're alone up here because I feel like I. . .owe you an apology."

"You just did. And I accepted. "

"No, not for that. For everything. For Lucas. For how you found out. For the things I . . . told him."

House shook his head.

"You don't have to . . ."

"I know how much you hate awkward conversations. . ." she said.

"Then let's stop this one before it begins," he said.

"I just feel like I want to explain some things to you. Will you let me?"

He sighed. He wasn't playing games anymore. He looked genuinely dismayed.

"If you must. . ." he said.

"After you went to Mayfield . . ."

House sighed again, heavily.

She side-eyed him.

"After you went to Mayfield, I was so confused. I was so scared for you. I didn't what to think. I just felt kind of . . . rudderless, you know?"

"So dating one of my best friends seemed like the perfect solution!" he said, bitterly. "I assume Wilson shot you down?"

Cuddy recoiled, hurt.

House closed his eyes.

"Sorry," he muttered. "That was below the belt."

"So one night, a few days after you left for Mayfield," Cuddy continued—she seemed determined to get out this story. "I was at Sullivan's having a drink. Or four."

House gave her a half smile.

"And who should show up?" she said.

"Bono?"

"Lucas."

"Ahhh," House said. Then, under his breath: "He probably followed you."

"And he asked me how I was holding up. I guess he had heard through the grapevine that you were in Mayfield. And I just kind of broke down, you know? I didn't mean to spill my guts to him. It just happened. I told him everything. Turns out I really needed a shoulder to cry on. Lucas was just at the right place at the right time."

"Some guys have all the luck," House said, annoyed.

"He was there for me when I was at a low point. And then he started coming to the house. And Rachel really took a shining to him. And I always knew he had feelings for me. And one thing led to another and, well. . ."

"I get it . ." House said.

"The irony is, you were sort of the thing that brought Lucas and me together. The first month of our relationship, all we did was talk about you."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"No, House. I'm just telling you the truth."

"Well, the truth sucks. And, for the record, it has _not _set me free."

"I'm sorry."

"You said that already," he mumbled.

Now it was House's turn to hug himself a bit. It must've been 40 degrees on that roof. She could see goosebumps on his arms.

"We could share the jacket?" she suggested.

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah?" he said.

She took the jacket off one shoulder and draped it over his. They huddled close together, like lovers snuggling under a blanket.

"Better?" she said.

"Much," he said. He looked at her searchingly. Puppy dog eyes. She looked down.

"Do you love him?" House asked.

Cuddy closed her eyes.

"He. . . makes me feel safe," she said.

"So does a German Shepherd," House said. "That's not what I asked. I asked if you loved him."

"He's a good man."

"So we've established that he's a good man who makes you feel safe. Got it. Now. . .do you _love him_?"

Cuddy swallowed.

"Part of me does, yes," she said honestly. "But not in the same way that I. . ."

"That you love me?"

Now they both looked at each other. Their heads were close enough to touch.

"It's different. It's a love that's solid. It's a foundation that I can _build _on."

"Now you're describing a particularly sturdy desk."

At the mention of a desk, both their minds flashed to the desk that House had procured for Cuddy.

"That desk. . ." she said, shaking her head. "We never talked about that damn desk."

"You're welcome," House said.

"I love the desk. It's one of my most prized possessions. And one of the most romantic things that anyone has ever done for me. . . "

House smiled a bit, thinking he was _finally_ going to receive the gratitude he deserved.

"And it represents everything that is wrong about our relationship," Cuddy finished.

House was shocked.

"I move mountains to get you your med school desk and that represents everything that is _wrong _between us?"

"Because it was after we had fought. After you rejected me, humiliated me. . . Do you remember that day in your office?"

"I seem to recall that it was _our _office that day," House teased.

"What were you thinking that day?"

"I was thinking: I'm so glad she wore that blouse."

"You're doing it again," she said, slightly annoyed.

"Doing what?"

"Deflecting. . . Which is what you do whenever things get too real between us. What were you thinking when I asked you to kiss me and you grabbed my breast and humiliated me instead?"

He looked down, gave a half-shrug.

"I was thinking that I wanted to touch your boob."

"Stop it, House! Why do you always do that? _Why_?"

He felt trapped a bit, like he was being grilled.

"Oh wait, I know this!" he said, sarcastically. "I grabbed your boob instead of kissing you that day because I have a _fear of intimacy_. Is that the answer you're looking for? Do I win a prize?"

"You were scared," she said, not letting him off the hook.

He studied her. Exhaled.

"Yes," he said, dropping the act. He lowered his eyes. "I was scared."

Then, in a quiet voice, he said: "Because all I wanted to do was kiss you that day. . . Because all I wanted to do was take you in my arms and kiss you the way you deserved to be kissed. But instead. . . I ran away."

Cuddy gulped.

"I've changed," House said.

"You have?"

"Look how intimate we are now," he said, smiling slightly. He scooted closer to her. "Do I seem afraid to you?"

She loved the way his body felt. She loved the way his body made _her_ feel.

"I can't trust this," she said, catching herself. "I can't trust any of this."

"Yes, you can," he whispered.

"Do you know long I waited for you to admit your feelings for me?"

"Too long," he said plainly.

It was what she had always longed to hear. But Cuddy didn't trust it. She stiffened a bit, leaned away.

"You only want me now because you can't have me."

"Bullshit," he said. "I went to an insane asylum I wanted you so much."

"Don't make that about me. That's not fair."

"Okay, it wasn't about you," he said. "But it wasn't entirely _not _about you either."

Cuddy blinked at him.

"Every time I let my guard down around you, you hurt me," she said.

"So instead, you decided to hurt me?" he countered.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Too late."

"I'm sorry," she repeated. Then she reached out and touched his face. "I want to trust you, House. I do. So badly."

"You can," he whispered. "I swear, you can."

"Why? What's changed?"

He looked surprised that she would even ask.

"I'm sober," he said. "I'm off drugs."

She hadn't thought about that. Something very big _had _changed. She realized that she hadn't given him enough credit for the enormous change he'd made in his life. She had been a lousy friend.

"House, I'm so proud of you," she said. "I should say that more often."

"I'm a better man now. Let me show you how much of a better man I can be."

Her hand was still on his face. He leaned toward her, slowly, gingerly—and she knew he was going to kiss her. And more than that, she knew she _wanted_ him to kiss her.

His lips touched hers—just grazing them at first. Then he parted her mouth with his own, slipped in his tongue. It was soft and hot.

She shivered a bit, but not from the cold. She tasted his tongue in her mouth and kissed back—and his hands were in her hair and on her back and around her waist and her own desire was white hot. She wanted him, so much more than she ever wanted Lucas. How could she have ever fooled herself, even for an instant?

The jacket fell off them, but they didn't care. Their limbs were getting entangled, they were generating their own heat.

And she had forgotten what this felt like—the rush, the flood of desire, the unfamiliar but altogether wonderful sense of losing control.

She pressed her body against his, grabbed for him more tightly.

"Oh God, House," she moaned.

He was kissing her ravenously.

"Cuddy, I really do lo—"

And just at that moment, there was a loud clang—the clang of a large door being unlocked.

Then a voice: "WE ARE OFFICIALLY OUT OF LOCKDOWN. I REPEAT. WE ARE OUT OF LOCKDOWN. YOU CAN NOW MOVE FREELY ABOUT THE HOSPITAL."

It broke them from their reverie.

They looked at each other, shocked.

Cuddy stood, smoothed her skirt.

"I need to go find out what happened with the baby," she said, standing. Her voice was shaky, husky.

"I know," House said. He was still out of breath.

"I'm . . .sorry," she said.

"Go do your job," he said. "I'm just going to stay up here for a second, if that's okay."

"Take all the time you need," she said. "Clinic duty can wait."

She nodded at him and he nodded at her.

And then she opened the heavy door and slowly made her way back to the real world.

THE END


End file.
